


Angels

by Brightgemini



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, White Collar
Genre: F/M, Pre-City of Fallen Angels, post City of Glass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brightgemini/pseuds/Brightgemini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after City of Glass (around the beginning of City of Fallen Angels) and after season 4 episode "Ice Breaker". For Shadow Hunters, mistakes were always costly. For Elizabeth Burke, a childhood mistake cost her everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories

**Author's Note:**

> So it occurred to me one day that Elizabeth (and Neal actually) has "the Lightwood look" and I started flirting around with the idea that she could have been someone else before she met Peter. Hope you Enjoy.

“Morning Hun.” Elizabeth smiled at Peter as he wondered into the kitchen, tying his tie as he walked.

Peter smiled and returned the smile, kissing her cheek as he reached around her to retrieve the half full coffee pot, “Morning Hun.”

“You in a hurry?” She asked, moving out of his way and standing by the window, gazing out across the yard.

“Neal called a few minutes ago going on about our case, he wants me to meet him at the office to go over some new evidence he’s discovered. I’m not asking how he stumbled across this new information.” Peter chuckled, “What’s your plan for today? Working?”

“No, work is slow right now. I’m taking the day off to get some stuff done around the house. You know, vacuuming, dusting… the fun stuff.” She grinned, “Call if you’re going to be late tonight, okay? I might pull out my mom’s old meatloaf recipe.”

“That sounds great.” Peter nodded, dropping his mug in the sink and slipping his jacket on. “I’ll call you, I promise.”

“Alright, good luck reigning in Neal.” Elisabeth called after him, turning to watch her husband leave. She abandoned her coffee mug and dug under the sink for a rag to dust with. Starting in the kitchen, she worked her way through the dining room and into the living room, shuffling papers and the odd decoration out of the way. Working on the bookshelf, she paused, her fingers brushing the spine of one of the older photo albums on the shelf. It had been a long time since she’d last pulled out the old photos and looked at them. Of course her and Peter often enjoyed flipping through the albums of their early days together, but the photos she was thinking of were a little older then her relationship with Peter. Pulling down their wedding and honeymoon albums, she laid it on the couch and returned to the shelf. Pulling out her pocket knife, she gently unscrewed the cover of the false wall socket behind the shelf and popping out the tray that it hid. Reaching in and wrapping her fingers around the velvet ribbon curled inside the tray, she pulled it out and along with it, they key it was threaded through. The key was old, silver and gothic looking, appearing quite out of place in Elizabeth’s bright, modern home. Heading upstairs to the bedroom, she fished under the bed for the old steamer trunk that held all her childhood mementos, or so she told people. It wasn’t entirely a lie, she mused, unlocking the trunk with the key before slipping the ribbon around her neck and hiding the key in her shirt, the items she kept hidden in the chest were from her early years, though they were hardly the children’s books and teddy bears she led people to believe they were. Propping the lid open, she rummaged around in the trunk, pushing knives and letters aside until she located the small wooden box where she kept her photographs. Most of photos were of her friends from school and her brother, though there were a few odd photos of her parents along with her baby nephew. She lingered on a photo of three school aged children, herself, her dark hair pulled aside into pigtails, and three blond children, two boys and a girl.

Elizabeth was startled out of her thoughts by the ringing of the phone. She answered, recognizing her assistant’s number, “Hey Linda, what’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you,” Linda apologized, “There’s a man here asking some questions about throwing a party for his son. He’s asking for you by name.”

“Huh, so my reputation precedes me, does it?” Elizabeth chuckled, “I’ll swing by and have a chat with him if he has time to wait half an hour.”

Elizabeth heard Linda’s muffled voice asking the man if he could wait and the equally muffled sound of a man with some sort of European accent answer, “Yeah, he says he can wait.”

“Great, I’ll see you in half an hour.” Elizabeth chirped, hanging up the phone as Linda echoed her goodbye. Setting the phone back in its cradle, she quickly tucked the photographs away in their box, leaving the box on her nightstand and pushing the trunk back under the bed with her toe. Changing into some more work appropriate clothes, she headed downstairs to find her car keys. She paused to replace the albums on the bookshelf, leaving the key tucked into her shirt so she could lock up the trunk when she came home, and heading out to her car. It was a fifteen minute drive to the office that Elizabeth’s company operated out of and with the light mid-day traffic, she was right on time to meet her new client.

She made her way inside, smiling at Linda, who informed her that the client was a Mr. Mercer and was waiting for her out front. Strolling out to the office front, she was immediately struck by the familiarity of the man by the window, she could only see his outline with the sun shining through the window behind him, but the way he held himself and the tussled mess of dark blond hair jumped out at her right away. The man turned when he heard her approach and Elizabeth felt her heart skip as a familiar cheeky half grin greeted her, “I hoped it would be you.”


	2. Old Friends

Elizabeth could hear the blood pounding in her ears as she stared at the man before her. He had grown up since she’d last seen him, filled out and lost his gawky teenaged awkwardness, but with his dark eyes and his crooked smile, she’d recognize him anywhere. It took her a moment to get past her shock and find her voice, “Jeremy?”

“So you do remember me!” The man, Jeremy, chuckled lightly, “You had me worried there for a minute, Lizzie.”

“W-what are you doing here?” Elizabeth couldn’t keep the tremble out of her voice. She could hardly believe he was actually standing there. Jeremy Pontmercy. Her childhood friend. Her first love. She was never supposed to see him again.

“I’m in town on business.” He told her casually, “I caught a colleague of mine checking out your website while looking into holding a conference. I saw your picture on the site and I could hardly believe it was you. I thought you were dead.”

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably, “Forgive me, Jer, but that was what I had intended. I left the life behind me.” Her mind suddenly picked out a certain detail of Linda’s story, “Sorry, did you say you were planning a party for your son?”

Jeremy’s smile faltered slightly, “Ah, yes, well, you see, you were gone and we all had to move on from what happened. I have two children now. Timothy is six and Rachel is four.”

“Congratulations.” She half smiled, trying to ignore the fact that if her youth had been less troubled; those might have been her children. “May I ask who the lucky lady is?”

It was Jeremy’s turn to appear uncomfortable, “Eleanor Gladstone.”

“My cousin?” Elizabeth clarified, a little alarmed. She quickly hid her shock, “Well, I’m glad to hear you found someone. How is Ellie?”

A sad look crossed the blond man’s features, “I’m afraid Ellie is no longer with us. She was killed on a hunt six months ago.”

“Oh Jer, I’m so sorry.” The news hit her like a punch in the gut. She’d missed so much since she left.

“Thank you.” He offered her a kind smile, “What about you? Do you have a family now?”

“I’m married.” She informed him, “No kids yet. Just a dog.”

“Well, you’re young yet.” He pointed out.

“Look, Jer, it’s not that I’m not thrilled to see you again, but…” She hesitated, “Contacting an ex-communicated member of the Clave is against the law.”

“And when have we ever paid attention to the law?” Jeremy smirked, then shook his head, “Technically you’re not an ex-communicated member. You’re missing and assumed dead. There’s no law against conversing with ghosts.”

“Since I married a federal agent.” She offered, “Still finding loopholes, I see. They won’t care, you know, they’ll persecute you anyways.”

“There’s not much more they can do to me after…”

“The Uprising.” She winced, remembering the events of that day. She’d never known what had happened to the others, she’d fled before the dust settled. “Was it bad?”

“Worse for some. Abbey and I got off easy because we were children, as did your brother and his wife because of their baby.” Jeremy explained, “There were a few others who were treated leniently but there were also some, like Hodge Starkweather, who were exiled from Idris.”

“Hodge?” She groaned, “He was always such a kind person to me. Why treat some with more mercy then others?”

“They made an example of him.” He frowned, “There were too many of us to punish everyone. So they picked out a select few. Hodge was banished to the New York Institute with your family. He lived there until a few weeks before his death.”

She managed to keep the surprise from her face, it shouldn’t have surprised her that Hodge was dead, her kind almost never lived to be old. Instead she focused on the less common information, “My brother’s in New York?”

“He probably has been for as long as you have.” Jeremy told her, “His family was exiled here a few weeks after the Uprising. You probably would have gone with them if you hadn’t disappeared.”

Elizabeth couldn’t keep a wave of guilt from raising within her chest. She knew she should have stayed and faced judgement with the others, but she had been too panicked and horrified by what she’d been a part of to cope. She didn’t look back as she ran from the battle, she hadn’t even contacted her parents until a month after she’d fled to New York, “Jeremy, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s in the past.” He told her, cutting her off with a wave of his hand, “It’s time we all stopped dwelling and looked to the future. Valentine is dead and the Clave is reviewing many of our laws. You would undoubtedly be welcomed back to the Clave if you reached out to them.”

Elizabeth smiled but shook her head, “Thank you, Jeremy, but I have no desire to return to that life now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve missed you, Lizzie.” He bowed his head slightly, pulling a card out of his wallet and handing it to her, “I have to run, but why don’t you call me sometime.”

She smiled, tucking the card into her coat pocket, “Thanks, Jer, I will. It was really good to see you again.”

“It was great seeing you again too.” He flashed her one more crooked smile and then she watched him retreat from the office. Shaking her head and smiling at the coincidence today had brought her Elizabeth bid Linda farewell and headed back to her car. She arrived him just in time to answer Peter when he called to say he’d be home in time for dinner and to take Satchmo on a quick walk around the block before returning to her house chores. The rest of the day went according to plan and by the time Peter arrived home, she’d dusted, vacuumed and had dinner nearly finished.

“Hey Hun.” She greeted, looking up from her cooking as he came in the door, noting that he had Neal in tow, “Hey Neal.”

“Hey Hun.” Peter greeted, coming up behind her in the kitchen and kissing her cheek.

“Hey Elizabeth, hope you don’t mind me popping by.” Neal grinned and leaned past Peter, over her shoulder to see what she was cooking, “Mmm, Alfredo?”

“Not at all, there’s lots of food.” She told him, poking a piece of pasta to see how cooked it was. “Yep, should be ready in ten minutes.”

“Great, I’m starving.” Peter told her. He looked as though he had something else to say, but was cut off by the sound of barking. Satchmo was standing at the bottom of the stairs, barking at the shadows above. Peter approached him, frowning and smoothing the hair on the back of his neck, “Hey Buddy, what’s wrong?”

“He’s probably restless.” Elizabeth frowned slightly as well, “Why don’t you take Satchmo out while we’re waiting, he hasn’t been out in a few hours.”

“Sure.” Peter agreed, grabbing the dog leash from by the front door and clipping it to the dog’s collar, “You coming Neal?”

“Temping,” Neal smirked, “But it looks like rain and I just got this suit dry cleaned.”

Peter seemed to hesitate, but Elizabeth waved him off, “Go ahead, I can handle Neal by myself for a few minutes.”

“Alright, I won’t be long.” Peter nodded, ducking out the back front door with Satchmo, who seemed reluctant to go, in tow.

Elizabeth turned back to Neal as they disappeared out the door, “So? How did it go at work today? Still working on that bank robbery case?”

“No, we closed that this morning.” Neal told her, leaning against the counter as she returned to her cooking, “One of the tellers was in on it, which I should have seen coming. She double crossed her partners and nearly made off with thirty million dollars.”

“Yikes.” She shook her head, carrying the pot over to the sink to drain the pasta, “What gave her away?”

Neal was about to tell her when he was interrupted by the sound of nails on the hardwood stairs, “What was that?”

Elizabeth hesitated, “I may have left the window open up there. Maybe a racoon got in?”

“Right, well…” Neal picked up a frying pan, holding it like baseball bat, “Let’s check it out.”

“Right behind you,” She told him, picking up a kitchen knife. When he wasn’t looking, she tucked a second on into the waist band of her apron.

Slowly, the two of them inched their way into the dining room, eyes scanning the familiar furniture for anything that didn’t belong. Stepping a head of her, Neal made his way into the living room. Peeking into the entrance hall, he gasped, then sighed, turning to her, chuckling and pointing, “Don’t worry, it’s just a cat.”

Elizabeth let out a sigh, but it caught halfway in her throat as she eyed the mangy orange cat. There was something off about it’s eyes. “Neal…!”

Neal followed her horrified gaze and yelled as the cat’s eyes turned completely white and its skin began to peal away from it’s skull. Quickly doubling in size, the demon stood on it’s back legs, growled, and lunged at them.


	3. Escape

Elizabeth screamed, not a scream of terror, a scream of action as she lunged at Neal, pushing him out of the way. The man seemed frozen in terror, probably unable to fully process what he was seeing. She had enough time to see her shove land him on the couch before the creature was upon her, knocking her flat on her back. Slashing angrily at it’s neck with her kitchen knife, she gagged on the smell of it’s breath in her face. As it reeled back and roared in pain, she rolled out from under it, her knife still stuck in it’s half rotten black flesh. Neal was staring at her with a look of horror, cowering away from the creature. She grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet roughly, “Get up!”

“What is that thing!?” He asked, his voice panicked as she dragged him up the stairs. She felt sorry for him, as she always felt sorry for Mundanes when they had the Shadow World forced upon them like this, but she didn’t have time to stop and hold his hand through it.

“It’s a monster. Hurry up!” She winced as she heard the sound of glass breaking behind them and the sound of demonic claws shredding the hardwood behind them. She pushed Neal ahead of her as the demon tore up the stairs behind them. She bit back a yell of pain as the demon’s claws ripped through her jeans, tearing deep, long grooves into her calf. Spinning on the spot, she whipped out her second knife, throwing it with deadly accuracy. She didn’t stop to watch as the knife buried its self up to the hilt in the demon’s fleshy back, reaching the top of the stairs, she pushed Neal into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind them, “Neal, block the door!”

He did as she said, pushing the dresser across the doorway, “Elizabeth, what the hell is going on?”

She was already on her knees in front of the box with the key in her hand, unlocking it and digging through it’s contents for her seraph blade and stele, the sound of claws tearing through wood egging her on. “Neal, I promise I’ll explain everything, but right now, we have more pressing matters. Like killing that thing before Peter gets back…” Too late, she heard Satchmo barking at the bottom of the stairs, “Damn it.”

Peter yelled and fired his gun twice at the creature and Elizabeth couldn’t hold back a slight swell of pride, though she knew the gun would do nothing to help him. Shoving the stele into her pocket, she pulled out her old blade, calling its name to bring it forth. Neal yelled in surprise as the blade shot out, moving quickly out of her way as she shoved the dresser aside and flung the ruined door open. The creature was halfway down the stairs towards a wide-eyed Peter who struggled to hold onto Satchmo as he strained at the end of the leash. As she emerged from the room, the creature stopped and turned back to her, bunching up its muscles and leaping at her. Her training coming back to her like water flowing through an open flood gate, she ducked to the side, slashing the creature across its exposed belly. She tried not to think of the damage her house was sustaining as the demon crashed against the wall beside her. Manoeuvring quickly around its flailing limbs, she flipped her sword in her hand, launching a killing blow through its head causing the demon exploded in a cloud of smoke. A terrible silence fell over the house as the smoke dispersed, broken up only by her heavy breathing. Neal poked his head out of the bedroom, checking that the coast was clear before slowly emerging.

His voice was tentative, “Elizabeth…?”

“We can’t stay here.” She announced, “There could be more of those things. I know somewhere we can go where we’ll be safe.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, barrelling down the stairs, sword in hand. She was relieved to hear after a second that Neal was following her. Peter seemed a little more reluctant, but at least he saw the sense in leaving the house. As she past he muttered something that sounded like, “We’d better not be going to Mozzie’s.”

Elizabeth ignored him, stifling a hiss of pain as she jostled her leg, sliding into the drivers seat of her car. Peter slid into the passenger seat, ordering Neal and Satchmo into the back. She peeled out of the driveway at a speed that was probably unnecessary considering no more demons had started popping out of bushes, but the sooner they got away from the house, the better. She’d never been to the New York Institute before, but she’d never been able to help being acutely aware of where it was. Turning into Manhattan, she saw the confusion on Peter’s face, “You’ve never been there, to the place we’re going. I haven’t either, actually. Which is good, we’ll be safe.”

He nodded wordlessly and she began to worry that all this would be too much for him to process. When he finally spoke, it was about her leg, “El, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.” She lied, turning onto the street she knew the institute was on. She could feel the demon’s poison seeping into her bloodstream, her vision was beginning to get hazy, which was never a terribly good sign. She pulled up in front of the grand fortress that was known as The Institute, knowing her companions didn’t see it as that, “We’re here.”

“You want us to hide out in an abandoned church?” Neal asked, frowning, “How is this safer then the house?”

“It’s not abandoned.” She told him, approaching the gate. For a moment she was afraid it would be locked, but the Institute was always open to those baring Shadow Hunter blood, so it swung open for her easily.

As soon as they stepped through the gate and past the wards, she heard Neal and Peter gasp, knowing they saw it for what it was now. They followed her up the stairs, gawking at the building, “What is this place?”

Elizabeth smiled at Peter, banging on the door with the large knocker, “It’s a sanctuary, a sort of hostel for people who fight… what we just fought.”

Releasing the door, she swayed a little, the poison in her blood making her light headed. Peter put a hand on her arm to steady her, “Are you alright?”

She shook her head, “They’ll know how to help me here. Tell them we were attacked by a Ravener.”

“Why can’t you tell them? Who’s them?” Peter demanded, but Elizabeth didn’t answer, instead she pitched forwards in a dead faint, eyes rolling back. “El? Elizabeth!”


	4. Shadowhunter

As a permanent resident of the Institute, there were a lot of odd things Alec Lightwood was willing to take in stride, however, three mundanes and a dog showing up on the Institute doorstep out of the blue was something special. There were two men and a woman and one of the men, the shorter, more clean cut of the two, was holding the woman up. “What-”

“She said you could help her.” The younger, taller man cut him off, eyeing Alec with a mixture of hope and doubt. He'd probably been expecting someone older. “She was scratched by a... a thing.”

“Ravager.” The man holding the woman announced, “She called it a ravager, I think.”

Alec's attention was drawn to the bleeding cuts on her leg, “You mean ravener? You were attacked by a demon?”

The shorter man looked hesitant, but his taller companion nodded quickly, “That's what Elizabeth said. She called it a demon.”

Alec hesitated, then stepped aside to let them in, “We need to take her to the infirmary. She's right, I can help, but we have to hurry, ravener poison will kill a mundane quickly. With scratches like those, it's a miracle she's still breathing now.”

The one man scooped her up, carrying her inside and following Alec as he rushed towards the infirmary. The other man trailed behind them, eyes darting around curiously, “What is this place? It looks like an abandoned building from outside.”

“It's warded.” Alec replied shortly, pushing the infirmary door open and motioning for them to put the woman on one of the beds, “It's supposed to keep mundanes out.”

“Mundane?” The younger man scowled, “Look kid, I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about, but mundane has never been a word anyone's used to describe me.”

“Neal, please.” The older man scolded, “Look kid, you said you could help my wife?”

“I'm not a kid...” Alec muttered under his breath, turning his attention to the woman. The wounds in her leg were deep, but would be easy enough to bandage if he could counteract the poison. The question was, how to do that without the use of runes, without killing the mundane. A glimmer of silver caught his eye and he reached for the item in her pocket, pulling out the silver and crystal Steele and turning it over in his hand. “Where did she get this?”

The older man blinked in confusion, “I've never seen that before.”

“She got it from the trunk under the bed.” The younger man, Neal, provided, “Why? What is that?”

“Possibly the beginning of an explanation.” Alec frowned in consideration, taking the Steele and pressing it to the exposed skin of her forearm beginning to draw a rune where he though he could see the traces of old scars, like she'd been runed before but it had been so long her pale skin had disposed of the evidence.

“What are you doing?” The older mad demanded, clearly alarmed, reaching for Alec's hand as if to stop him.

Alec knocked the hand aside, “Do you want your wife to live or not?”

He looked as though he might protest further, but Neal gave him a look, “Peter, maybe we should trust him. I mean, we don't seem to have another option.”

“Neal, he's burning her...!” Peter protested, though he trailed off as Alec finished drawing the rune. The improvement was immediately evident as colour returned to her cheeks and the wounds started to heal. “What did you do?”

“Iratze rune. For healing.” Alec provided, “More importantly, one that's working. But something tells me you're not aware of what your wife is.”

“El is an event planner.” Peter gave a scowl that Alec quickly matched.

“Maybe she is, but the fact that she survived a runing is definitive proof.” He announced, “Your wife is a shadowhunter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be lovely.


End file.
